


Until it just is

by HooperMolly



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-25
Updated: 2012-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 02:46:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HooperMolly/pseuds/HooperMolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John seeks refuge in Dartmoor post TRF.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until it just is

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly different style to what I normally write. Apologies for it being so short. Edit: added another 330 words because I felt guilty about it only being 300 words long.

At first it’s just a way to get away from all the scepticism and doubt, the accusing eyes and pitiful gazes of London. To escape to Dartmoor where he can spend time with someone who shared his confidence, his belief. 

It soon morphs into something slightly different; a concerned doctor helping a trauma victim, a friend who knows what it’s like to have PTSD giving a mate some advice on how to cope. 

Then, as the fever and furore over what the papers referred to as the Holmes Tragedy died down, Dartmoor becomes a refuge from the crippling loneliness of 221B. 

John teaches Henry how to properly use firearms and how to maintain them. Henry shows John that sometimes coffee is an adequate substitute for tea. 

Occasionally John will stay over, because that’s what it is. Staying. Neither of them sleeps very well. 

Occasionally turns into sometimes, sometimes turns into often. John takes a job at the local clinic. 

He goes back to 221B on the weekends, but Henry doesn’t come with him. 221B is John’s space and Henry doesn’t want to take that from him. 

Mrs Hudson worries that they aren’t feeding themselves properly and takes it upon herself to come and visit once a fortnight to cook for them. Even if John minded he wouldn’t tell her because he can see how much it means to her, being useful for him. If it makes her happy it makes him happy, and if it makes him happy it makes Henry happy. 

It’s not the perfect arrangement, but it didn’t come from perfect circumstances so why would it be? But it’s what John needs, what Henry needs. And so they keep the arrangement until days blur together into weeks, and the weeks start turning into months and it just is.

\------

It’s been over a year since John started staying in Dartmoor. Part of him feels like Baker Street was another life, but he knows deep down that he could slip back into life in 221B in an instant. 

But it’s comfortable here, and it’s pleasant enough to envisage spending one’s life here. He’s sitting on the sofa watching a match on the telly when Henry comes in, dragging a fuzzy plum coloured blanket behind him. 

“What are you watching?” He asks as he settles himself down next to John, the soft white seat pillows of the expensive sofa sagging heavily under his weight. 

“Football.” John replies as Henry pulls the blanket up to his chin. 

“Who are you going for?” He draws his feet up so that he looks like a fuzzy purple ball with a head. 

“No one really, my team isn’t playing.” Henry nods, even though he’s never cared about team sports. That’s one of the great things about Henry, he at least feigns interest. John returns the favour, pretending to engrossed by Henry’s discussions on botany or golf. 

“We don’t have to watch it.” John says when he catches the look on Henry’s face. 

“No, it’s fine. You were in here first, I can’t just ask you to stop watching it.” Sometimes John thinks Henry is too polite for his own good. 

“You didn’t ask, I offered. We’ll watch a movie. How about The Great Escape?” It’s one of Henry’s favourites. John knows because it’s one of his favourites too. 

“Are you sure?” Henry asks, but John is already on his feet. 

By the time the film is at the halfway point, Henry has started to lean on John’s shoulder. By the end of the it he is asleep with his head in John’s lap. John is tired, but he can’t bring himself to move the sleeping man. So he decides to sod going to bed, they’ll make a night of it here on the sofa instead.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote another John and Henry fic if you are interested - [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/339536).


End file.
